Already Gone
by theytalktome
Summary: Love is blind - especially when you're learning it the hard way. Slash JERICHO/KENNEDY


Bare feet trekked their way to the kitchen as frozen as the cold pale hands that could barely grasping onto the cabinet knob and hardly hold onto the mug handle while the door slammed shut. The coffee pot was quick to start up as he slumped down to the floor, blue eyes slowly reopened, looking out the window in front of him. His fingers burrowed through brown hair terribly highlighted with blond, the cool contact of his palms coming to rest against his temples. His muscular body trembled as he grasped the counter and brought himself to his half asleep feet.

He sat up on a bar stool at the island, his ears listening to the sound of walking from upstairs. A shiver ran up his spine; he took a deep breath and teeth gently gnawed on his bruised lip as the footsteps descended down the nearby staircase. His hands rubbed at his upper arms as his breathing tensed. Wisconsin had been much colder than Florida but this had been too obvious to hide with a weather complaint. He desperately wished that the cell phone up stairs had been in his hands, or that he secretly had the guts to secretly buy himself a new one.

There had only been one recent attempt at an "escape." He hadn't followed through with it.

Every day after his decision to stay felt like a mistake burning its self into his very being. There had been so many sacrifices to get to that point, and blowing it in less than five minutes. He could remember his friends voice when he was there at the hotel door to help him get out, he knew he had to go at some point, and that he wanted to, but now wasn't when it was going to happen and his voice showed every bit of his doubt that he would go through with it.

He resisted his body's urge to tremble when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and the hot breath on his neck had brought the resistance to an end with a vibration running through his entire body. Disguising it well was his specialty as he stretched upwards, leaning back into him and fixing his own arms around the younger man, staring upside down up at him. He was turned around on the swiveling seat until they were facing upright.

He informed the younger man that he had coffee ready and as a reward for doing so he received a kiss that he was thankful wasn't as rough as it could have been. A few kisses later their lips had rested against each others', the plush tongue of his lover lapping gently at the bruises, whispering a comment about the dried blood that tasted "perfect" on him but he had been all too familiar with those comments. A sadistic comment was so near to bringing a blush to his face.

The two leaned back into the counter, sapphire eyes half lidded, fingers slipping into platinum blonde hair. He could only slightly pull away as he was held in place against the granite, a low whimper had turned into a moan as blood vessels burst from several areas of his neck. He was thankful for the time off that he'd brought upon his self. He didn't need to hide things, at least for a little while, and didn't have to lie as much as usual to every last friend who knew the truth but stood back and said nothing. At thirty eight, he was old enough to take care of himself and make a good decision.

Had there really been a point in leaving now? Not to him there hadn't been.

He didn't have to force a smile, except for the drenched feel of saliva running down his neck and onto his used-to-be-white wife beater.

He said nothing, reaching for the towel on the counter top once the other man turned around and headed for the brewing coffee, staring the machine down as if it would produce it faster, and when that didn't work he'd taken to mumbling at it. He shook his head with a smile on his face, gently wiping at his searing neck until the idea of being saliva coated didn't make him feel like he had to gag. He leaned his aching jaw gently onto his palm, watching with an amount of admiration and longing for his lover as he began to have a very serious conversation with the machine. A smile crept onto his pale lips as he remembered the first night he spent over at his house.

Everything that night had just been perfect... just like the day before, and for a few months before it turned vile. He'd come down that morning after one of the most mind blowing nights of his life, to find the big mouth making several wild demands of the coffee machine - as if it was really listening. He'd smile and step into the room just as he would turn around.

He snapped out of his day dream with a hard smack upside his head. He couldn't answer whatever it was that had been asked of him, and it took him a moment to realize that he'd been getting yelled at for not waking up early enough to start making breakfast - which he hadn't. He bowed his head and listened, stupidity washed over him as every demeaning thing in the book was rained down upon him, a long with several slaps until he was standing at the fridge fumbling through it for something to cook.

Cooking had been a sudden means of escape. He was left alone to do it and nothing was better than just having fifteen minutes to breathe like a normal person would. All the love in the world he had for that man would always come back, just living his past over and over in the constant day dreams of the first time he had been asked out, that impertinent grin of his wiped away to something a little sweeter. He loved that smile, it was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes.

He sighed with contentment, ignoring his battered reflection in the kitchenware as he took the plate into the living room, setting it down on the table and waiting for approval. When those gold optics sparkled with fire met his he looked away, nervous. He felt the hand latch onto his freshly bruised wrist, the cuffs had been tighter than usual last night. He opened his eyes when he heard him chuckle, tilting his head at the platinum blonde. He let out a small giggle as he was pulled into his lap and their lips met. Success felt great as he was pinned into the couch, twisting under him for a few moments to get comfortable as his shirt was pulled over his head, he waited eagerly to take his lover's off; adrenaline rushing through their bodies until they could feel it beneath each others' skin.

Tampa could wait as far as the older man was concerned. He shut his eyes as fingers slipped under his sweat pants, moaning his name softly.


End file.
